


One More Chance XXIX

by DancingHare



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 07:01:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13608081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DancingHare/pseuds/DancingHare
Summary: Vajarra travels north.





	One More Chance XXIX

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published December 27, 2008

Vajarra had never been so cold, never before and she was certain never again. The forests of Terokkar that surrounded her home were mild and lush, and even when she had traveled to the mountains of Azeroth, she was sure it had not been this cold. It was like a living thing, a cruel and merciless beast that stole the warmth from your very breath, sending its claws of ice right into your bones. She shivered again at the thought, glancing down to the water again, where little rafts of ice clanked and rattled against the ship’s hull. On the first days of the journey, Vajarra had gone beneath the deck to try and escape the cold. But it was no warmer, and the ship’s relentless rocking made her feel ill. The crew had told her to go back up on deck, that watching the horizon would cease her seasickness. It had helped, a little, but she still felt a little queasy, and she still was sure that she would freeze to death here upon the deck before she ever even reached the northern continent. Vajarra watched a fleet of dark sea-birds burst up from the water’s surface, disturbed by the ship’s ripples. She had taken a long trip on a ship once before, when she had come with the other survivors from their little island. She had felt so scared, and so alone, wondering where Vassanta might be, and praying that she might see her mother and father again. This journey wasn’t really so different then, for all of those things were true, but she felt hopeful that she might find answers when this ship found its dock.

The letter was pressed against her, in the pocket inside of her traveling cloak. It had no address, no directions where she might find him, but she was certain that Istahn would be waiting for her, somehow. Not at the outpost, though, there were no naaru here to hold anyone’s blade; here his kind were still the enemy. Certainly Vassanta and her shiftless elf believed so, that he was irreparably evil and nothing would save him. Vajarra still held onto the hope that they were wrong about that, and she touched the letter briefly, like a talisman.

Just when Vajarra had given up hope of ever seeing land again, she saw the coastline, creeping out from the cloak of heavy mist. Even the land seemed dreary, the colors pale and leached out by the cold, the sky a dull slate grey overhead. Vajarra never imagined she would miss the gaudy gold and red towers on the Scryer’s tier, but she almost did now. The crew began to stir as they approached the docks, readying the ship for its landing. Vajarra was surprised to see that the camp was really a small town, complete with shops and stone buildings. There were some tents too, and a few of her own kind here. That encouraged her a little, if they could find hope in this dreadful place, so could she.


End file.
